


180 Degrees Upside-down

by fuuckya



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cute, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kinda, Smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, lets all picture Louis doing yoga, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuuckya/pseuds/fuuckya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Harry lets out a happy little laugh and proceeds to show Louis how to do some basic yoga 101. Louis tries, he tries his damn hardest to stay balanced, and elongated, and most importantly, to breathe, but he’s suddenly so uncoordinated he can’t tell his feet from his hands. "</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Harry makes Louis do couples yoga, and he feels (or doesn't) a lot of things.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	180 Degrees Upside-down

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Once again I have written a new fic without completing my old one!  
> This is something cute that I thought up, definitely a head-canon.  
> For the life of me I cannot remember the timeline of events focused on this story. Let's pretend that I'm right.
> 
> Sorry for the overuse of italics. Sorry for the rushed ending..
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

‘I thought this was going to be a little more-’ Louis flails his arms around bit, ‘ _-sexy,_ ’ he grumbles for the third time. He’s staring right across at Harry’s face, who has his eyes closed and clearly ignoring him and being increasingly frustrating. They’re sitting cross legged on the floor, facing each other, knees barely touching. Harry’s palms are facing up towards the ceiling, Louis is picking at his nails, back slumped, frowning at his boyfriend, ‘you know, like the Karma Sutra or something.’

Harry inhales deeply in a sigh, eyes still closed but Louis can see his eyes twitch behind its lids, ‘if we were doing the Karma Sutra I would have told you,’ he says, voice light. 

Louis huffs, ‘I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I knew we were actually doing _couples yoga_ ,’ he makes a face at himself, ‘I’d much rather see you being all naked and bendy, anyway.’ 

Harry finally cracks a smile at that, but continues to inhale and exhale to the sound of crashing waves coming from his ipod speakers and stays perfectly still. Louis, feeling antsy, realises very quickly that he’s not going to get Harry in a downwards facing dog any time soon, so he closes his eyes, turns his palms to the ceiling, touches his pointer and thumb into a circle, and imitates Harry’s deep breathing.

‘You gotta breathe _with_ me, Lou,’ Harry says, level, and Louis groans loudly. 

~

They don’t try it again for a few more days, in between meetings with reps, recording songs, and hanging out with the others, there really isn’t any time. And honestly, Louis and Harry have their own apartment, _their own apartment_ , which means they can kiss, cuddle and fuck anywhere that they want, at any time of the day, and there are no prying eyes of playful band mates or others who usually barge in a ruin their moment.

After teasing Harry for a short while in the shower, and just before preparation for a roast dinner begins, Harry drags Louis (still wobbly from ‘the best blowjob ever’) into the living room to do some yoga. 

He’s still a little pink in the cheeks from the hot shower, and his eyes are still a little glassy, but he sits Louis’ down on the floor and insists that this is something they’re going to get into every free chance they get, whether Louis likes it or not. 

So, their sitting with spread legs, feet touching, hangs tangled in the middle of them, Harry leans forward freakishly far, his head _too_ close to the shag carpet, using Louis’ hands as support to stretch out his back. Louis’ likes this even less than before.

When Harry rolls back up he smiles at Louis with his dimpled grin, tugs on his hands and encourages him to do what he had just done. Louis bends forward at the waist and doesn’t get as far. Yeah, he definitely does not like this. 

‘Feel good?’ Harry asks. Louis stares down at the cream carpet, burning holes in the fabric with his frown.

‘No,’ he decides, voice firm, and Harry tuts at him.

‘Babe, just relax into it,’ he says, and Louis is suddenly overcome with giddiness at the pet name, but that then vanishes and he almost loses his mind when Harry says softly, encouraging , ‘keep breathing.’

‘Christ, I’m not giving birth!’ Louis exclaims suddenly, albeit a little dramatically, sitting up quickly and feeling a pull in his lower back. ‘Motherfucker!’ 

Harry looks mildly concerned as Louis grumbles and rubs at the spot on his back, ‘are you okay?’ 

Louis sets his face into the best pout he can, lip quivering comically, ‘ _Hazza,_ I think I pulled something.’ 

Harry gives him a look and leans forward, legs still spread mind you, and brushes his lips against Louis’. ‘Maybe we should try again tomorrow, yeah?’ 

Louis pretends to contemplate the offer, still rubbing the knuckle of his finger into his back to ease out the little knot that has formed. ‘I don’t think I can,’ he sighs suddenly, making sure he looks extremely cute and pathetic, and Harry humours him with a sympathetic look, ‘I should probably rest a little bit, yeah?’

‘Okay,’ Harry says, pushing himself into a standing position and leaving Louis a useless lump on the floor, ‘whatever you say. Maybe I can give you a rub down later?’ his voice goes all dark and sexy, and he fixes Louis with this _look_ that he’s developed only recently, a look that makes Louis’ dick twitch in interest. Louis thinks to himself that he’s a genius. 

~

The next afternoon Louis comes down from upstairs and sees Harry stretched out on the carpet of the living room, some terrible day time drama left forgotten on the TV. His little bum is settled on the heels of his feet, and he’s stretched out all long and lean and yep, this is what Louis wanted from yoga. 

He must sense Louis approaching, because even though he is face down Louis can still hear his cute little muffled, ‘hi.’

‘Hey yourself,’ Louis replies, falling onto the couch ungracefully with a loud sigh. He keeps his eyes trained on the strip of exposed skin on Harry’s lower back, where his little tshirt has ridden up. He’s not a little sixteen year old anymore, he’s getting closer to eighteen, and hasn’t puberty served him well. He’s a little bit taller than Louis now, which is fine, and he’s grown into his long legs and broad shoulders and big hands and pretty face and little bum and biceps and abs and hair and ...

‘why don’t you come and join me?’ 

Louis gets ripped back to reality, Harry’s turned his head to the side to watch him, and judging by the little smirk on his face he’s seen Louis drooling over him. Before Louis has even began to piece together his protest Harry is rolling back up slowly, sitting back on his heels and beckoning him with one hand, ‘it’ll help your back, come on,’ and if Louis wasn’t already a sucker for his dimpled face he adds very sweetly, ‘ _pleeeaaaseeee._ ’

They both do the child’s pose on the floor side by side. Louis does this in bed every morning before he gets up; he’s a yoga pro without even realising it.

It is nice on his back, he’ll give Harry that, but after a while he starts to lose feeling in anything below his ankles and he gives Harry hell as he straightens up. 

‘I can’t feel my feet. Oh my God, it’s the end of the world!’ 

Harry seems unfazed by the drama, and he laughs as Louis re-arranges himself so he’s sprawled out on the floor, resting back on his hands, legs stretched before him and still whining like a champ. Harry wastes no time in clambering into his lap to straddle him and kisses him deeply, tongue warm and lazy, kissing him like he’s still learning and exploring Louis’ mouth, still understanding how they fit together. 

It works, and it’s wonderful. 

Harry kisses Louis breathless, hands threaded in his hair, tilting his head and biting his lip and making Louis complete putty in his hands. They pull apart as their lungs start to burn and Louis kisses along Harry’s neck, nipping at his sensitive spots until Harry is shuddering and whimpering above him. He grinds his hips down in tiny movements, while Louis pushes up, because they’re both horny teenagers, and Louis wants Harry _all_ the time, it’s almost unbearable. 

It doesn’t take them long to undress themselves, fingers biting and teeth scraping softly against skin, sending sparks shooting like fireworks. Harry doesn’t stop kissing Louis enough to go and get the lube from the bathroom, so they grind together, skin on skin, in the middle of the living room floor, feeling every inch of each other with hands and tongues, until Harry is gasping out and shaking with his release. He holds on to Louis tight, seals their hips together in a dirty grind and rocks back on Louis, relentlessly, oversensitive and pretty, until he’s done as well. 

In the afterglow Louis is still catching his breath. He’s star-fished on the carpet, Harry on top of him, wrapped around him like a koala. He can feel his breath in the crook of his neck and it warms him up and sends shivers through his veins at the same time. He plays with the longer curls on the back of Harry’s head, content on never leaving their apartment again.

‘How do your legs feel?’ Harry mumbles into his skin, peppering kisses there because he can.

‘Better. Thank you, Nurse Harry,’ Louis smiles, wrapping his arms around him to keep him close. 

~

The heating doesn’t work in their _million pound_ bachelor pad and it’s ridiculous really, but Louis gets to cuddle up with Harry all the time so he supposes it’s not that bad. They come back from a meeting with some fancy record label guys and Harry’s been quiet the whole ride home, hand clasped with Louis’ tight the whole way. 

They get inside and Harry’s still not any better, Louis is starting to get a little worried. He makes them both tea and Harry changes into comfortable clothes and only when he’s sitting at the kitchen island with a steaming cup does Louis talk.

‘Are you okay, babe?’ he says softly, fiddling with the string of his tea bag. Harry shrugs one shoulder like an angsty teenager, and he keeps his eyes down towards his tea. Louis gives him a second of silence before he’s moving into his space, pressing a gentle kiss to his ear. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

Harry sighs, turning to burrow into Louis arms and cacoon himself, ‘I dunno why I’m nervous, I’m just-‘ he sighs again like he’s frustrated with himself. Louis shushes him and strokes a hand through his hair. 

‘What are you nervous about?’ he’s completely still, trying to feel the stiffness in Harry’s body. He rubs circles on his back and tries to make it go away.

‘You know, all this record stuff and recording and – I dunno, it seems like a lot of pressure doesn’t it?’ he lifts his head from Louis shoulder and his eyes are glossy like he wants to cry. That makes Louis want to cry too.

‘It’s exciting isn’t it?’ Louis says, trying to sound hopeful, but honestly he didn’t think about his nerves until Harry brought them up, ‘we’re gonna have our own album, that’s fucking crazy!’

Harry seems to lighten up a bit at Louis mood, but his lips still form a thin line in worry. He shrugs it off again, his gaze falling, ‘I guess, yeah,’ but Louis isn’t convinced. 

‘Hey,’ he says, tipping Harry’s chin with his finger until they’re looking at each other again, and Louis almost loses himself in Harry’s mossy green eyes, like beacons of light in the dark, ‘let’s get into our pyjamas and watch a movie and we can talk about this later in bed, yeah?’

Harry seems to like this idea because he smiles softly, and Louis leads him by the hand upstairs.

Later that night after watching the ending of ‘American Pie’ and some poor kids comedy, Louis and Harry are wrapped up in jumpers, pants, two blankets and each other. Harry turns the lamp off and they snuggle in tight together, blocking the cold out of their little cave.

‘So are you okay now?’ Louis asks, lips pressed against Harry’s forehead. 

Harry nods, ‘yeah, I just got a bit nervous for a split second.’ Louis doesn’t want to push him to continue, just waits until Harry keeps talking or he kisses Louis goodnight and falls asleep. He finally speaks after a long while, ‘I was just thinking, what if we’re not successful, and what if the album flops? What if people think we’re shit and boring?’Louis tries not to think about it, for Harry’s sake.

‘Well then we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,’ he says softly into the darkness, his voice sure, ‘you’ve got the lads with you in case it turns to shit. You’ve got me...’ his sentence slips off into the night, he wants to say _forever, always,_ but - that’s a promise for another day. 

Harry seems satisfied enough and cuddles impossibly closer, ‘thank you,’ is all he says before they both fall into silence, and then into sleep. 

~

The next morning Harry seems a little brighter, but still far from his usual self. Louis’ honestly didn’t think of any of the negative things that come with making an album, because they’re having so much fun together, laughing, singing, hanging out and being friends. All of a sudden this shadow of ‘what if’ starts to cloud over him, and he’s not going to suddenly succumb to the darkness, oh no, especially not when Harry needs him to be strong, happy and sturdy. 

‘Let’s do some yoga, yeah? Start the day off right,’ he’s actually surprised with how excited he sounds, but what is even more puzzling to him is that he actually _wants_ to attempt to bend and breathe unnaturally on the floor. Probably because he gets to do it with Harry. Plus Harry smiles big and beautiful, and then he’s taking Louis by the hand and leading them from the kitchen to the living room.

It’s cold outside but the sky is crystal blue and the sun is shining through their big, spacious windows, and suddenly it feels like spring, like happiness and warmth and rebirth. Shit, maybe he is really starting to like this yoga business. ‘Go on then,’ he says to Harry, both of them standing in the middle of the room, their coffee table now permanently pushed into the corner to make some space, ‘teach me your yoga ways.’ 

Harry lets out a happy little laugh and proceeds to show Louis how to do some basic yoga 101. Louis tries, he tries his damn hardest to stay balanced, and elongated, and most importantly, to _breathe,_ but he’s suddenly so uncoordinated he can’t tell his feet from his hands. 

Harry just laughs at him, _finally_ in a downwards dog position, his hair is all in his face, grinning like a fool and Louis feels content. 

Honestly, they don’t try for very long, and they end up sitting on the floor, coming up with their own yoga poses with dirty names that keeps them laughing and laughing. 

‘Oh my God, stop, stop it!’ Harry shrieks, toppling over and clutching at his stomach like he was in pain, his laugh rings out into all corners of the room and it’s a wonderful sound that has Louis smiling so hard his face hurts. Their laughter dies down after forever, and Louis doesn’t think he can laugh anymore.

He’s sitting cross legged on the floor, Harry still sprawled on his back with his hands entwined on his stomach, his head is tilted so he can peer down at Louis with his teary eyes, little bubbles of laughter still escapes him like he’s failing to control them.

A silence falls over them, and Louis can feel its weight surrounding them, but it’s warm, comfortable. They watch each other, eyes soft, and smiles tugging at their lips. Harry looks all warm and cute in his green grip socks, (‘so I won’t fall over on the hardwood floors,’ which he’s done many times before), his oversized jumped, and Louis’ flannel pj pants.

The doubts from before are starting to settle on Louis again, jumping on him when his guard is down, and he is suddenly hit with this sense of longing, for some reason, and it feels heavy in his chest. He thinks back to where they first began, that moment where he first stepped out on stage, he can still feel the rush in his veins that makes goose bumps break out on his skin; he can picture it clear as day like it happened yesterday. Suddenly, he’s overcome with everything that has happened since then, and the only thing that really gets his heart racing is when he thinks of Harry. Thinks about meeting him for the first time, and that feeling he had deep down that ran to his core, something that he couldn’t explain until this moment, when he looks down at Harry at his feet, eyes all warm and green, watching Louis think (Louis knows he’s wearing his thinking face).

They’re about to hit the drop on this strange and wonderful rollercoaster ride _together_ , when just a few months ago they were strangers standing in the same line, their dreams tethered and floating high, high above their heads. When it hits him, it hits him hard like truck barreling towards him, and he realises that he’s not afraid of the future, and it’s that moment that all the doubts fall away. It’s not like when he was younger, restless and running blind and lost, hoping, wishing, dreaming- he’s struck with this sudden clarity, so blinding white that it burns  
  


‘I love you,’ he says, and it’s booming in his ears like he’s just screamed it at the top of his lungs. Harry’s brow crinkles into a frown, only just, and he just looks up at him without saying a word. Louis can’t read his expression. ‘Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t-‘ the words tumble from him in a rush, he’s shaking, ‘that was really unexpected wasn’t it? 

But strangely it wasn’t, it was buried there all along, inside his skin and bones. He felt it everywhere. 

It happens so suddenly that Louis almost missed it because the blood is rushing so loud in his ears. Harry’s off the ground and his lips are on him, bringing everything to a grinding halt, like stopping a speeding train in its tracks. He’s laughing in between kisses, laughing and saying ‘I love you too, I love you too. Shit, don’t say _sorry_.’

Louis is gripping on to his shoulders so tight and he doesn’t think he can let go. Harry’s mouth is warm and comforting, grounding him and making him fly at the same time. 

‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ 

~

They hold on to each other for ages, and kiss until they can’t anymore, until their mouths are dry and lips bruised. Louis never thought that in a million years he’d be living miles away from home with a boy he literally just met, but he’s glad that he is. Everything seems to be falling into place, and somehow he’s found himself there in this moment, 180 degrees upside-down. It’s perfect.

~

For Louis' 20th birthday Harry buys him a copy of the Karma Sutra. 

They try it out immediately. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! x


End file.
